Gone
by Seshat3
Summary: On a summer's day in Vegas, something has gone missing from Nick's backyard. Not urgent enough to call for backup, but definitely warrants a hunt.


_A/N: The author of this work does not, in any way, profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). __**CSI:Crime Scene Investigation**__ is the property of CBS._

_Thanks again to Smokey, my beta reader extrodinaire._

**Gone**

Something is missing. I can't tell what yet, but I just know. Someone has been in my backyard and the gate emits a rusty creak as it sways gently in the breeze. I spare a thought about getting that gate fixed before stepping further into the yard.

Then I spot it.

Or rather, I don't spot it. I see the empty space where it should have been instead. I should be bristling with indignation, but somehow I'm not surprised. Maybe that means I've seen too much. I don't know. All I really want to do is flop down on the couch and relax a little, maybe take a nap while the neighbourhood is quiet.

In fact it's a little too quiet come to think of it. I cock my head to listen more closely to the sounds around me. At this time of day with the sun already climbing in the sky the neighbourhood should be bustling with activity. It's a warm summer day. Where is everyone?

All I can hear is the creak of the gate, some leaves rustling as the breeze whispers past, and the distant rush of a busy motorway. A bird chirps loudly, and I imagine I can hear the skittering of a squirrel up a tree.

I'm puzzled. There should be children laughing, mothers shouting, and lawnmowers droning, but this neighbourhood feels dead today.

I look around again while I try to decide what to do. The break-in isn't serious enough to bother anyone with, and a quick search around the block might just turn up something. And it's not like I'm no good at finding things; the irony of the situation does not escape me.

There's no time like the present so I slip out the back gate and start my search. My first thought is to see if the neighbours know anything, even though we're only on nod-and-hello kind of terms. We keep to ourselves, engrossed in our own lives and problems. I can't help but observe them though; its part of my nature I guess.

I spy Gloria in her backyard. She looks like she's asleep in the sun, but I know better. I'm not arrogant, but there are few I think highly of and more I think badly of. Now Gloria, she's a long legged bitch. She's a model or something like that. I've seen her around, strutting up the block like she owns it. It seems like all she cares about is that long glossy hair of hers. I've seen enough of her garbage to know that she goes through a fortune in hair products.

Gloria opens one eye while I'm standing there, staring at me as if to say 'what are you looking at?' After a moment she closes her eye again before rearranging herself in the sunlight. She's obviously posing, her limbs all lanky and neck stretched just a little too much. I know it's for my benefit because the light gleams off her hair now, freshly washed and brushed poker straight.

I'm not impressed.

From our exchange I can tell she doesn't know anything about the intruder in my yard, and if she did I'm certain she still wouldn't tell me. Like I said, she's a bitch.

I decide to move on before Gloria gets the wrong idea about me staring at her. There's a little laneway between houses so I move through it, breaking out to the front of the block, keeping my eyes peeled.

As I come out to the main street I pass a front lawn that smells like it's been freshly mowed, the scent of clean grass filling the air. I love it. Makes me want to roll in the grass and dig my toes into the dirt. It's a real summery smell, and for some reason it always seems to make me hungry.

I stop to stand at the edge of the lawn, looking for clues or evidence that would lead to whomever was in my backyard. Even with the warm sun streaming down and the summertime smells filling my nose, I'm not distracted from my hunt.

I almost step onto the grass when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I freeze where I am as my eyes dart around. I'm sensitive to danger now and always trust my instincts. I finally spot him standing in the shade of a willow tree, staring at me with menacing eyes.

I have to say, Joe is aptly built for a fighter. He's big and squat, a boxer with a banged up face that has obviously seen its fair share of fights. I'm pretty sure I could hold my own against him as I'm not without some moves myself. But I don't want to antagonise anyone. This is my home and I like it nice and peaceful. And besides, Joe would be the type to swagger. Something tells me that if he** had** been in my yard he'd be standing there with the evidence, taunting me.

There's nothing for me to do but to back off and keep moving. Someone somewhere must know something.

I keep sauntering down the sidewalk until I catch a faint whiff of a peculiar scent on the breeze. Curious, I turn to follow, the scent growing stronger until I'm halfway down the block, standing in front of Mr. Jones' place. I don't know Mr. Jones very well. If I keep to myself then he's a veritable recluse. He's outside today, smelling of hospitals and medicine and I remember he's just had surgery. Maybe sunshine is what the doctor ordered because he's sitting there on his lawn, staring at nothing.

Mr. Jones is big and black, not that it matters in this day and age. I gather he's been around awhile and as I watch him I can't help but wonder what his story is.

Something brushes up behind me and I jump, letting out a yelp of surprise. Sophia merely tosses her head and continues up the steps to sit beside Mr. Jones. She's not like the blond Sophia I know. No, this Sophia has thick red hair that I can only imagine must get everywhere. She's haughty too, arrogant and unfriendly with a vengeance. She acts like she owns Mr. Jones, like she's privileged because he tolerates having her around. I wouldn't have it in me to tell her it's probably because he doesn't have the energy to tell her to bug off. She wouldn't listen to me anyway.

Briefly I wonder why they let Mr. Jones come home so soon after surgery but just as quickly I know the answer. He's not long left in the world and what better place to say goodbye than in the comfort of your own home.

Saddened, I nod to the two of them, Mr. Jones and Sophia, but they both ignore me, lost instead in their aloofness.

I turn and cross the street, thinking I'll head up the other way, back towards home. Still sauntering, trying to look casual as I'm on the lookout. I want to look like I'm just going for a walk instead of being hot on a case.

A scream cuts through the air, loud and shrill, and I freeze at the sound, trying to decipher where it came from. A second shriek, as piercing as the first, follows. The resulting silence is then broken by peals of laughter. I relax, my heart still pounding as I realise the neighbourhood kids must be out to play.

As if it were some kind of signal, the block suddenly springs to life. A weed hacker is started up and buzzes as it hacks away. A car door slams while someone talks loudly into the phone. Dishes rattle through open windows, screen doors slam, and sprinklers begin to hiss as they spread precious water over thirsty grass.

The kids are still shrieking, and I know where they are now. At the end of the street is an area of open space covered with green lawn. It's a perfect place to play. They're laughing and screaming and I can't help but feel a little old as I cringe, they seem so loud. Still, I shrug off the feeling and continue down the street with something like a spring in my step. After all, you're only as young as you feel.

Turning the corner I see 5, no 6, kids running around on the grass, arms outstretched as they dash past each other. They're giggling and taunting each other, full of energy and youthful enthusiasm.

I can't exactly make out what game they are playing, but it involves a lot of running around and tumbling to the ground. A flash of legs and feet draws my attention to something colourful lying in the grass.

Well would you look at that! The very thing I've been looking for!

Casually, like it doesn't matter to me, I stroll over and nonchalantly pick it up. The kids jump around me, but I don't join in their game. I'm a little put out with them, although I can't exactly blame them. After all there's no real proof any of them were in my yard. And I know better than to accuse someone without evidence.

Fixing the kids with a stern glare that they ignore, I turn around and head for home. I haven't been gone long but somehow it feels like I've been away forever, and I just want to get back so I can finally relax. My feet hurt and I'm thirsty now. A cold drink is just the thing I need.

I make it home just in time, slipping into the backyard through the open gate, turning to watch as it clangs shut behind me with a sudden gust of wind. I drop my prize onto the grass where it belongs, then wait as the sound of footsteps moves through the house.

I sit on my haunches and wag my tail when I see his shadowy form at the window. When the door slides open I bark happily, and launch myself towards him to lick his face and tangle myself up in his legs. He likes to know he's been missed, and well, I missed him too.

"Hey, Gus, how are ya boy?" he asks, bending over to run calloused hands over my golden fur. I swipe my dry tongue over his cheek.

"Let's get you some fresh water," he says as he stands. His face creases into a frown as he looks out into the yard. I bound over to grab my toy, picking it up in my teeth and rushing back to drop it at his feet, tail wagging proudly.

He picks it up then kneels in the grass to waggle it at me until I grab at it and we play tug of war. He likes this game. I guess I like it too. I usually always win.

All too soon he lets go and I flop down into the grass to chew at the toy. He's still frowning and I wonder what's wrong until he stands up, talking to himself.

"That's funny," he says as he picks up my water bowl, "I could have sworn I left that in the park last night."

***


End file.
